Writing plays evolved from a stitching method I created as a child to teach myself to speak. Stitching fabric or wood or metal with thread felt like music; I counted beats -- 1, 2, 3, 4 - 1, 2, 3, 4. With each stitch, I struggled to utter a word, fought to string those words together into the shapes of sentences I read in books or heard people use in conversation. I had no connection to my voice box, as if the circuits between my brain and my larynx had been cut. To this day, I can still see the stitches as I type and speak. Plays are my way of sharing hope and community through the rhythmic labor of unmuting myself.

Joy and Blessings.

Harmon dot aut - 2025